


Whatever I Want

by sluttyeren



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, Piercings, Underage - Freeform, before eren met erwin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 14:13:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sluttyeren/pseuds/sluttyeren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So I mentioned to a friend that in Anything You Need, Eren has his belly button pierced and I was told to elaborate. Also Eren losing his virginity and getting his attitude.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whatever I Want

**Author's Note:**

> This is so strange and vague and very different from my usual style what is writing ugh enjoy I guess

At sixteen years old, a lot of things sound like great ideas. Going to Denny’s high at three in the morning, skinny dipping in your neighbor’s pool, trying to jump over cars with a bike and a cardboard ramp. These things all feel like great ideas until you actually do them and everything turns to shit.  
  
That’s how Eren lost his virginity to Jean. To be fair they had both wanted it, but Jean was the one that thought it would be such a great idea. It’s not that Eren had been obvious about his sexuality back then, but he hadn’t exactly been all that subtle either. He never had to outright tell Jean anyway. The two of them were close, not as close as he was with Armin who knew the day Eren figured it out, but close. So when Jean picked up on it, he took advantage of it. Their “fights” were always more like aggressive flirting than anything anyway, flinging insults at each other and challenging the other to take it a step further, waiting to see who would crack first. Jean may have been observant, but never patient. Maybe shoving Eren away from him was more of an excuse to touch his chest, letting his hands linger there just a few seconds longer than necessary. And if Jean draped a tired arm over him while they watched a movie at Eren’s house it wasn’t a big deal, right? Especially if Eren happened to fall asleep, resting his cheek against Jean’s shoulder. But the game of cat and mouse wasn’t fun anymore for Jean. Maybe it wasn’t entirely called for as they were playing video games to inch closer to Eren, elbowing him as he shouted at the screen. But Eren would never complain if their legs were flush against each other while they leaned bright eyed towards the television, sitting on the floor in his room. When he won, of course Jean would tackle him to the floor, pinning him down and digging his knuckles into his head and calling him a cheater.  
  
But then the easy, light-hearted exchanges couldn’t last forever. Jean was tired of waiting. Why should he have to, if it was so painfully obvious where this was going? So if he kept Eren pinned there even after their bubbling laughter had died down, fighting to catch their breath by the dim light of whatever forgotten game they had been playing, wasn’t that alright? Eren didn’t say anything, anyway. He was still beneath him, the challenge ever present in his eyes as he looked up at him. Jean wanted to wipe that smirk off his face, because he knew Eren knew exactly what he was doing: pushing Jean until he snapped. When their lips met it was like a sigh of relief, as though they had been missing something that they never had. If they made their clumsy way into Eren’s bed, shedding their clothes on the way, no one needed to hear the moans they muted with kisses. The silent slide of skin on skin, Eren whispering in his ear and clawing at his back. This was what Jean waited for.  
  
Maybe he had been right, maybe this was a good idea. Maybe, unlike the idiots breaking their arms falling off of skateboards, this would be one of those things they wouldn’t regret in the morning.  
  
And at first, neither of them did.  
  
\------------------------------------  
  
They weren’t quite dating. They didn’t hold hands walking to class, or kiss in the hallway before going home. They didn’t even sit near each other when they ate lunch most days. That didn’t stop people from seeing that there was more to the two of them. Eren had to tell Armin, running to him the next day and sharing probably more than his poor friend really needed to know. Mikasa knew, simply because she spent too much time with her brother not to see the new way he looked at Jean, the boundary that had disappeared between the two of them. She never knew exactly what happened that night of course, but she knew what she was seeing between them.  
  
And then all the time they spent together alone was more than enough to confirm what everyone assumed. When they thought they were being sneaky, and Eren would dodge his parents’ questions when he left only to have Mikasa rat him out behind his back. They hated it, but they couldn’t stop him. All they could do was corner him and try to guilt him into talking, saying they were worried and wished he would talk to them, all the while clearly judging him and voicing their disapproval. So he ran to Jean.  
  
“I hate them,” he would say as he laid on Jean’s bed, arm draped dramatically over his face. Not like he hadn’t been coming over for weeks with the same sob story. Jean sat at his desk, fingers tapping away at his keyboard.  
  
“Yeah, you’ve mentioned.” Jean’s patience was as short as ever, even if Eren had softened him up a bit. Eren had grown bolder, more careless. He shared the truth about himself with everyone and met much more rejection than he could handle. His parents, classmates; he stopped caring what they thought and stopped caring about things in general, and Jean was getting sick of it. Even if Jean didn’t know how he felt, Eren couldn’t just let go of the wheel and let his life go to shit like that. Who cares if people didn’t like him? Get over it. But his indifference pissed Eren off. He sat up to glare at him.  
  
“Alright Jean I get it, I’m boring you. No need to feel bad for me or anything, not like my life completely sucks. We can’t all be Jean Kirschtein.”  
  
“What do you want me to say, Eren? Poor you? Yeah it sucks, that’s life. You’re not dying, asshole. Just say fuck them and get over it already so I don’t have to listen to you whining like a little bitch anymore.” He could have punched him, but instead he fell back on the bed. He glared at the back of Jean’s head, eyes catching the glint of metal in his ears. He’d always had his ears pierced, and Eren felt a little less angry when he thought about the tongue piercing Jean had recently gotten as well.  
  
“Maybe I should get something pierced like you.” Jean turned to face him then, face skeptical.  
  
“Oh yeah? And you think this is a good idea? Do you even know what you want or are you just saying dumb shit.”  
  
“My parents would hate it. I love it already. You know them right, the people who did yours? Take me to get something.” Excitement lit his eyes and Jean let out a heavy sigh, crossing his arms over his chest.  
  
“What do you even want? You should get something that’s easy to hide or they’ll just freak out and make you take it out.” A devious glint joined the excitement in his eyes.  
“Take me to get my bellybutton done.”  
  
And fuck if that didn’t sound like a good idea.  
  
When they got there, Eren was bouncing with nervous excitement. The idiot didn’t even have his ears done, and he picks his fucking navel as his first piercing. Genius. But Eren never gave up when it came to anything he wanted, so Jean knew there was no point in trying to talk him down. Instead he held his hand when he walked back to the chair, and let Eren pull him in for a sloppy kiss to distract him from the needle going through his skin.  
  
He still had the same ring from when he got it done, even though him and Jean didn’t last. Sometimes Eren put it back in and thought about him, wondering if things could have been different if he had a “better attitude” as Jean liked to say. Maybe then he wouldn’t feel guilty sneaking out, wandering around alone and letting strangers pick him up. Maybe it wouldn’t make him hate himself as much as his parents probably did to see what a fucking wreck his life was becoming. If he had listened, he might be better off now.  
  
But if he had, he wouldn’t have met Erwin.


End file.
